Help Me Friend?
I only plan to write this once and maybe, if I pray hard enough, someone will read it and I can be saved. No I'm not being chased or watched and I haven't come across some cursed game or random .avi file on my computer, I'm just alone. I wish it was that simple and to be fully honest at least then I would know what would happen to me. No, I'm just alone in a small room with a laptop and internet access like I have been every day for four months. Yeah I guess I have stuff like Facebook and Skype to keep me company, but text and grainy video is no replacement for human contact. Actually, I don't think I want contact with those I know anymore; I've grown to hate the vacant eyes of those people called my friends. I read their petty complaints online and glance over the constant photos they post of themselves. They gloat about their amazing social lives and adventures, “Just got back from McDonald’s with my girls! With Sorority Sister 1 and Girl I Hated Last year.” I can't stand the constant, “Hey we miss you!” messages, they seem so meaningless and hollow, and I know they feel obligated to send me these messages. I know what they really think of me, I know they see me as being a hermit just looking for sympathy. It isn't like I want to be here all the time, I didn't decide to do this to myself and if I could leave this place I would. Their apathetic words only feed into my loneliness. I hate them more and more everyday their good intentions only there to mask uncaring. I don't need people to tell me about their lives I need someone to listen and understand the rising darkness in my heart. I think about the people in my life and I want to see the life drain from them. Actually, I'll let you in on a little secret, I have already found a way to kill one person. Escaping this room wasn't that hard, the hard part was waiting for him away from his leach girlfriend. In all sincerity, he wasn't one of my “friends” he was just dating one and I never really liked him, dumb stoner who thought he was deep and hyper intelligent. Anyway, once I got him, killing him was easy, he was too stoned to even know what hit him. He got in his car in his usual dazed stupor, but he didn't know I was in the back seat or that I figured out how to knock his fat ass out with paint thinner. After he was unconscious I decided to drive his car somewhere quiet so my hatred would not be disturbed. Luckily for me we live in a heavily forested area, so finding a quiet place at night isn't that hard. Once I found the perfect spot I drug him out of the car deeper into the woods and quickly threw together a makeshift cross with some branches I found and some twine I brought along. It was easy tying him to the cross, but not so easy setting it up, you see he was huge and I am rather small, but through perseverance I was able to get it up. I waited awhile for him to wake up and boy was he surprised to see me when he did. He started his whining saying that, my joke wasn't funny; I was a psycho, what the hell was I doing, and the old standby of fuck you. I didn't say anything to him, I just let him scream until he got it out of his system and once he shut up I started. This pig fancied himself a musician, he sang and played guitar, so I first took away things he would need to be a musician. I cut off his fingers one by one before using some pliers to latch his tongue, and then I pulled until I could hear a faint ripping sound. Fun fact, tongues are really in there and it takes a lot of effort to yank them out but once it is out the sounds are much more interesting, like a baby drowning. He went kinda limp after that but I couldn't let him fall asleep so I started hitting him in the face until he woke up. I wanted him to watch me slice him open like the pig he was. I still remember how satisfying it was as my knife sliced deep into his stomach, sliding through skin and muscle like it was little more than warm butter and hearing the gargled squeals barely escaping his throat. I don't remember how long I played with his insides, but I remember how warm and squishy they were between my fingers and how they got cold soon after. I thought such a big tough guy would have lasted much longer, but I guess in the end he was the pathetic little bitch. I decorated the forest with him though, he made such lovely streamers and ornaments, and it was like Christmas to look at. After I was finished I went back to his car and made sure to wipe out all of my fingerprints before setting fire to the inside. It took people about 24 hours to notice he was missing, but it has been two weeks and no one has found him yet. I guess now someone will figure out where I put him and people will come after me. I don't think they will find me though; this room is very well hidden. I don't want them to find me though. I want someone else to, someone who understands what I am going through. I figured if anyone would understand it would be someone out there who likes this website as much as I do. I need your help friend, I need you to come and pull me out of the darkness. I don't want to be alone anymore. I want someone to come and take me away from here and really be my friend. If you really are my friend you will find me without issue. I don't want to be a monster. Save me? I promise if you do I will help you kill your loneliness and stave off the coming dark. Category:Dismemberment Category:Mental Illness